Blurry
by smallvillefanatic
Summary: Chloe can't blieve the way events transpire on a seemingly average day in late June.


Blurry  
  
  
  
Crucial Note : Most (save for three or four lines) dialogue in quotations " " are Chloe's thoughts.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chloe could sense something was wrong before she entered the school.   
  
  
Her reporter sixth sense had been screaming bloody murder from the moment she woke up, but she shrugged it off as the feeling you get when you decide to have an unusual Middle Eastern breakfast the morning of your Algebra finals.   
  
  
She walked into the school, smiled, and shook her head at her paranoia. The existing state of affairs at Smallville High had not been altered in the least bit, as the colorful assortment of cliques assembled at their customary places. The jocks and cheerleaders were sprawled on the green, the nerds had their heads bowed in their books doing some last minute cramming, and every one else was either nervously laughing it up or preparing little cheat sheets.   
  
  
Chloe's mind was abuzz as she went to her locker. She'd spent the entire night with her Algebra text, her battered notebook, and a pot of black coffee, furiously working until she'd understood everything. She grinned mischievously as she thought of her teachers lecture. "Who says that you can't let things snowball in math? He's obviously never met a student like Chloe Sullivan." She was quite pleased with herself. She just knew that she was going to ace the exam of a subject she could care less about. " Quadratic equations my ass. Of all the useless crap…"   
  
  
Her mental tantrum was prematurely brought to a close as the warning bell rang. She confidently walked to her first block and took a seat, preparing her writing utensils and calculator. She couldn't wait until she got the exam over with and went back to worrying about the Torch. By the time the late bell rang, everyone had filed into the classroom. She turned around to wish Pete luck, but was taken aback by the sight of his vacant seat. She decided it wasn't a cause for alarm; the devil probably wanted a few days extra to study since the make up was the following week. Chloe laughed inwardly. ""He sure needs them,"" Her frame of mind suddenly darkened as she wondered if Clark pulled away from little Miss Pepto Bismol long enough to helped him study.   
  
  
"Can anyone enlighten us as to why Mr. Ross is absent today?" the teacher asked in her sarcastic monotone as she scribbled in her roll book, looking briefly at Chloe.  
  
  
Chloe beamed and began her exam.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
As good as her mood was before the Algebra exam, Chloe was positively jovial afterward. Her next and last exam was her forte- English. She listened to the anxious snippets of conversation as she walked briskly down the hall, taking note of some possible quotes she could use for the next issue of the Torch commemorating the end of school and beginning of summer.   
  
  
" Man, that **** was haaaard!"   
  
  
"Can you believe there were ten open endeds? That woman must have been in a pissy mood."  
  
  
"I dunno. I just put C for everything. I'm bound to get a few right that way."  
  
  
Chloe liked the last one in particular. She giggled and was practically floating as she skipped down the third floor staircase her to her destination on the first floor.   
  
  
But before she even pushed through the first floor double doors, she felt that sensation of dread again. It clutched her heart and wouldn't let go. And this time it couldn't be blamed on an exotic breakfast or grueling exam. "What the hell is up with you and your attempts at gradual self destruction today, Sullivan? Get a grip." But her little pep talk with herself would be interrupted as she took in the atmosphere on the first floor. The central office was in absolute disorder. Phones were ringing incessantly and the staff was frantic. As she got closer to the transparent glass walls of the office, she was shocked at the realization that people were crying.  
  
  
"Pete!"   
  
  
"Oh dear God, please let Pete be ok. " When she thought about t, she realized that Pete was sincerely planning on taking the test on time and getting it over with. She prayed silently that he was at home, safe, with merely a cold or allergies or something mild and not the least bit life threatening… She watched the principal's secretary grip her desk to steady herself as she wiped away ceaseless tears.   
  
  
Chloe swallowed and forced herself to walk down the hall to her English classroom, which was by more student lockers. She was greeted with even more miserable chaos at that end of the hall. Scores of students were openly weeping and embracing each other and a few were dashing down the hallway and up the stairs. A kid in a letterman jacket sat leaning against his locker, dejectedly rubbing his temples.   
  
  
She saw Lana in the distance. Chloe welcomed the sight of a very familiar face with whom she could speak, but Lana Lang ran by with her hands in her face, completely oblivious to her surroundings.   
  
  
Chloe recognized Kelly Simmons, the president of the Philosophy Club . "Him of all people! How could it happen?" the girl asked rhetorically between hysterical sobs.   
  
  
She couldn't stand this anymore. She was afraid to have her fears confirmed, but she was going to go insane if they weren't. She bit her lip, fighting for control, and placed her hand on another students shoulder. She turned around, her face damp and withdrawn.   
  
  
"What's happened?" Chloe asked, her voice barely audible.  
  
  
The girl didn't answer for what seemed like an eternity, but when she did, Chloe regretted it. The three words combined were like a fatal blow to Chloe.   
  
  
  
"It's Clark Kent."  
  
  
Chloe's whole world shattered into irrecoverable, infinite fragments.  
  
  
"Clark committed suicide. This morning."   
  
******  
  
  
It's all wrong. This happened all wrong.  
  
  
Chloe thought about Clark's last few weeks on earth and sobbed harder into her pillow.  
  
  
She thought about his note. She thought about the funeral, the melancholy expression still etched on his beautiful face and what a wreck his parents were. They had been mere moments too late. They'd found him lying on the floor of his loft, his shirt bloody from the sharp piece of meteor rock he'd driven through his heart, his tears still glistening on his cheeks.   
  
  
She thought about the way she'd decided to treat him after the Spring Formal debacle and the guilt nearly suffocated her.   
  
  
It wasn't supposed to go this far.   
  
  
They say the silent treatment is the perfect way to show people how you feel, what you think of them. That load of bullshit cost her a friend; cost the world a unique soul.  
  
  
When Clark had come back to her that night, he had given his unimpressive, unpersuasive explanation and then waited hopefully for her reaction. She could still picture his big, pleading blue eyes as he had watched her, almost holding his breath, as if his life depended on her reply.   
  
  
There would be no reply.   
  
  
She'd decided that he would get no reply for an entire month. The last month of school and before her big internship at the Planet. Then she'd hear his pathetic apology and grant him his long awaited forgiveness.   
  
  
For once in her life, she had wanted to attempt to harden her heart toward anything Clark Kent. He'd finally learn appreciate Chloe Sullivan.   
  
  
She'd poured her heart out to him before the Formal, spilling her biggest fear, her most profound insecurity, and what does he do?   
  
  
He grants her that worst fear. He fulfills her nightmare after assuring her that he would do no such thing, after sincerely promising her a night she'll never forget. He came through with the latter, alright.  
  
  
From that moment on, she'd regarded him with apathetic silence. It didn't matter that he'd called continuously and begged and pestered at school and at the Torch. He'd even shown up at her door a few times and she'd have her parents send him away. He left her emails and letters in her locker and sent text messages to her cell phone during those three weeks. He'd left flowers and candy and charming little corny jokes.   
  
  
But for once, Chloe would cut herself off from him and think of her feelings first. Never mind that he was going through a tough time, with his father severely injured and unable to take care of the farm, leaving Clark with all the responsibilities. Never mind that he was genuinely sorry and missed her. Never mind that he was clearly in misery from day one of her silent treatment.   
  
  
She listened to the voice on her answering machine from just the night before.  
  
  
"Please come and talk to me, Chloe. Please. It hurts too much. We need to talk, Chloe."  
  
  
  
How she longed to hear that voice again. To be enveloped in those strong arms, to breathe in his scent, and touch his warm skin. What she'd give to see his brilliant smile, to just be in his presence. Her tears blurred the writing on the note she'd been clutching for hours.  
  
  
"Mom, Dad, don't blame yourselves. It was my fault. I was selfish. I threw away something beautiful that I can never get back. I really am sorry, Chloe. I won't bother you any more. I love you. " 


End file.
